


Child of the Sun

by entropy24



Series: Shadow of the Sun [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Keith (Voltron), F/M, Gen, Human Pidge, Keith Can't Speak English, Keith is an Alien, Krolia is the Sun, Lance is a sweetheart, M/M, Matt Deserves A Hug, Soft Lance (Voltron), human Lance, human hunk, human shiro, zarkon is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26410603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entropy24/pseuds/entropy24
Summary: Life was boring. A plain, mundane existence full of suffering, agony and pain.Lance likes to complain. Lance likes to mind his own business.Now he can’t do either of these things. The two things that give him some semblance of peace.All he wanted was to stargaze, for fucks sake.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Hunk & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt & Shiro
Series: Shadow of the Sun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919626
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.

Lance was never one to believe in aliens. He had figured that the universe was too mundane for something as foreign as aliens to exist. He had liked to think that if there was life beyond this tragic ball of magma they called Earth, they would be severely disappointed. That they would see the state of the ozone and go, “Nah, it ain’t worth it. They self sabotaging enough as it is. Let’s let them destroy themselves.” The thought had made the boy chuckle. A small smile would grace his face at the sheer stupidity of the notion. Maybe aliens did exist. They just didn’t think Earth was worthy of their presence. Lance had scoffed, rolled his eyes. _Self centred bastards._

Lance was never one to believe in aliens. _He_ would have never allowed them to live. _He_ would take them for himself, hunt down every single one of them. Run experiment upon experiment upon them until they ceased to exist. His mama had always said _he_ would do whatever it took to get his way. Lance didn’t know how she knew this. No one knew who _he_ was. _He_ was just a white lab coat, no face. No name. Lance didn’t want to find out. Lance preferred to mind his own business.

Lance was never one to believe in aliens. That was until what he thought was a shooting star landed in his garden. _Fuck. I shouldn’t have moved out._ He is on the floor, knees up to his convulsing chest, arms thrown haplessly over his head in some flimsy attempt of protection. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead, beading down, _drip, drip, dripping_ down onto his neck. Not from fear. Partially from shock. From heat. Damp, sticky and utterly overwhelming heat. He moves to stand. His socks are stuck, plastered to the linoleum floor of his living room. After some effort, he frees himself, begins to crawl to the door, suffocates on the thick, vibrating air around him, reaches to open the door. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he should call for help. But…

The handle is metal. It burns his skin ( _Fuck. Not the skin_ ). He firms it, yanking it downwards and pulls.

_Holy Shit._


	2. 1:1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not beta read😔

Waves of heat radiated off of this…thing, pushing Lance back slightly, refusing to let Lance near it. Mirages of reds, oranges and yellows blended together in a sea of fire. The crater it created crumbled still, not yet able to recover from the inhuman bombardment of power from the mystery source. Lances eyes trailed up from the ground, squinting against the pressure of the white hot light. Lance opens his mouth to talk, though nothing but pathetic drawl of syllables exits. His tongue his heavy on the floor of his mouth, throat dry as if suctioned of all moisture by an army of vacuum cleaners. _Fuck, I really shouldn’t have moved out._

He directs eyes back to the glowing mass, can feel the way his pupils are dilating repeatedly. He blinks once. Twice. The third time he opens his eyes the thing is looking at him. Well, not really. Lance can’t see it’s eyes behind that god-forsaken mullet. Neck bent in and odd and undoubtedly uncomfortable position, like a snake about to snap at its prey. The glow begins to die down, the heat becomes more bearable and for the first time, Lance is able to take in the creature fully.

Wild, pitch black hair, accompanied with random streaks of white, falling to the shoulder length. Red lips. Like extremely red. Red enough to be mistaken for blood smears. Male genitalia. It (he?) is naked. The flat ,yet soft, stomach moves inwards and outwards along with it’s chest. Right. So… it can breathe. Good to know. Lance moves his tongue experimentally, darting out to lick his severely chapped lips. _Less heavy than before._ He opens his mouth.

“Hey!” It doesn’t seem to hear him. Unless it’s just ignoring him ( _rude_ ). He tries again. “Hey! Y-you alright over there?” It’s a feeble, pitiful attempt, Lance knows. But it’s better than nothing. The creature flinches. It hardly noticeable but Lance hasn’t taken his eyes off of it yet. So, you do have ears. _“Can you understand me?” is the real question._

“You might wanna tone to fire down, Zuko. Someone’s bound to have seen and heard the impact your ass made.”

Lance makes a gesture. Both hands out, on his knees, front door wide as if a space habitant is supposed to know what is classified a weapon on probably the strangest planet in the universe. _I’m not gonna hurt you buddy. Just put the fire away._ The creature stays eerily still, not even a ripple in its ankle. It gets easier to breath, easier to see. Eventually, everything looks normal. Well, as close to normal as it can get with a fucking alien on Lance’s lawn. A light breeze picks up, sweeping the boys unkept hair to the side (Lance has decided that it’s rude to call the boy and “it”). Radiant, ethereal, golden white irises against inky sclera. Fire dances in the boys pupils. _Damn_.

The boy’s eyes flutter, struggling to stay open. His head dips. His knees buckle. _Thump_. He hits the ground almost gracefully.

_Huh?_

Lance stays still, staring, stunned into silence. He plants his right foot on the ground and pushes so that he’s fully standing up, albeit unsteadily. He sways slightly, leaning on the door post for physical (and moral) support. His breath is coming in gulps as he finally makes a decision he didn’t even know he was contemplating. “Right. I’m really doing this. I’m really bringing a fucking fire wielding alien into my house…. Maybe I am insane.”

He shuffles towards the body cautiously, and when he reaches the unconscious boy he uses his foot to kick him lightly, making sure he’s completely out. When the boy doesn’t stir, Lance scoops him up from his underarms and drags him unceremoniously into the living room and onto his couch. He leans back. Hands on hips. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exha-

_Bang!Bang!Bang!_

Lance’s breaths stutters to a stop, winding him slightly and causing him to wheeze. He’s too busy trying to fucking breathe he hardly registers the voice behind the door.

“Open the motherfucking door, Lance!”

 _Ah, Pidge_ , his brain quips absentmindedly.

“H-hey, buddy…You alright I there?We heard the blast and wanted to check if you were okay. Lance?”

 _And Hunk_. It was to be expected, he guesses considering they have been friends since they were born (literally).

Lance starts towards the door, pauses, turns around and realises…

_There is a fucking alien boy on my couch!_

His eyes flicker. Door. Boy. Door. Boy. Door… his feet begin to move and before he knows it, his two best friends stand in front on him, faces flushed and shiny with sweat. Pidge pushes her way inside, shoving past Lance. Now she knows he’s okay, she can be as rough as she likes. Hunk is a little more careful, hesitant. He places a large hand on his friends shoulder, looks him in the eye, eyebrows raised in silent question:

_Are you sure you’re okay, man?_

Lance nods tiredly before stepping aside to let Hunk pass. They had always had that connection. A kind of string that connects their emotions to single line of communication. Lance feels warm, new hope and inspiration blossoming in his very core. Lance wonders if he has ever made anyone- a friend, a lover, a relative- feel this way. Fuck, he hopes so. He might just be the worst human to ever exists if he hasn’t by the time he leaves the mortal realm to reside elsewhere. Lance doesn’t know if he believes in-

“Lance, who the _fuck_ is _this_ and why is he laying _butt naked_ on _your_ couch?”

Lance could debate the existence of the afterlife later. For now, he needs to focus on explaining whatever kind of sick trick fate it playing on him to his two very temperamental and very anxious best friends.

 _Great_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes This is bad bare with me


	3. 1:2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe, it’s just fate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mocks were kicking my ass, but I’m back now.Our school is closed due to COVID, so hopefully I should have more time!
> 
> Enjoy! This chapter isn’t the best, nor is it beta read but I hope it’s good enough!

Lance let’s out a stressed huff, dragging his left hand through is uncombed, greasy hair before placing it back on his hip. He looks from Pidge to Hunk and back again before he opens his mouth and says:

…Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

It’s like his vocal cords have been disconnected from his brain; he knows what it is he wants to say but some part of his brain is adamant that it’s a bad idea. So he says nothing. Pidge raises her brows expectantly, “Well? I’d don’t recognise this guy from anywhere so unless he’s what caused the blast I really can’t think of anything-” she stops eyes bulging in their sockets. Lance purses his lips, avoiding eye-contact.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Lance?” Pidge bursts out, ripping her glasses off her face roughly. She looks to the boy on the couch, who shifts slightly, and then to Hunk, who holds her gaze and shrugs. “This is absolutely insane… you’re insane. Aliens aren’t real, Lance!”

“Well, obviously they are considering there is one lying on my couch! You’ve seen the crater in the front yard. There is no meteor. What other explanation is there? Back me up, Hunk?” The dark skinned boy flinches at the mention of his name and he starts to fidget with his hands.

“I don’t know, Pidge. Lance has a point. It is pretty crazy-” Pidge scoffs, “Okay, _a lot crazy_ , but I see no other explanation for the crater.”

“This isn’t logical! We’re talking aliens here. This isn’t science, this is conspiracy. There is no solid evidence that-”

“The evidence is right in front of us, Pidge!” Lance interrupts explosively. He couldn’t believe what Pidge was saying. She is the smartest among the three and yet she couldn’t put two and two together and accept the obvious truth. “You can’t rely on evidence for your whole life! There aren’t going to be things that no one can understand. Even you. But that doesn’t make it wrong, Pidge.”

Hunk nods meekly, agreeing with Lance. “Yeah,” he begins quietly. “Besides didn’t you say that you caught an ‘irregular wave’ come from somewhere in the solar system the other night? On your weird space devices science thing? I’m not saying it’s not a coincidence, but…” he gestures at the raven haired alien.

Pidge lets out a long suffering sigh. “You’re crazy! How are you so calm about this? Is this a prank? Because so help me-!” She’s interrupted abruptly by a low groan coming from the sofa. It’s almost a growl. She head spins backwards, eyes locking onto the boy and her breath hitches. His eyes were open.

The stillness in the room was stifling before it was relieved by Lance taking a stiff step towards the boy. Lilac irises awoke from their trance and flitted over towards the sudden movement. Lance stilled once again, crystal blue eyes never once leaving the unusual purple.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure of what it was, but he felt a connection with the boy; it tugged in his abdomen, forcing him towards the other. It wasn’t like what he had with Hunk- warm, fuzzy feelings of adoration and zenith admiration. It was more rash, callous and unsure. The tanned boy was flooded with unease to the end of his fingertips, yet, for some odd reason, he couldn’t find himself to shy away from the alien boy.

He understands why Pidge would call him crazy. He guesses it will take another few hours for the reality of the situation to settle within his bones, making him jump up and exclaim hysterical nonsense. As of now though, he’s calm, collected. Focused for the first time in year. This is what he has to do. It’s a vague feeling, but Lance is certain that the body on his couch didn’t just land in his garden for no reason. His mama has always told him that there is a reason for everything. “ _It’s just how fate works._ ” She would whisper, nuzzling her nose into her youngest sons neck.

Lance takes one more tentative step closer. The boy flinches. Tenses. Lance freezes. They stare at one another. Each blinking in turn, gauging the others intentions. As if they were… communicating. The boy relaxes, slumping against the material of the sofa. Lance’s posture melts back to fluid, liquid movements, moving more confidently. Lance reaches a hand out to the boy and, almost like it was practiced, places his right hand on the boys forehead, holding his right over his own closed eyes.

—

Zarkon Diabazaal grins, manic and scheming. He whirls around, facing his comrades, stained white coat blasting cold, damp air in their faces. His eyes widen as he opens his mouth:

“It is time.”


	4. Author's Note:Hiatus

Hi all!  
I was putting off writing this for a few weeks, however, the current circumstances in England (due to COVID and the variant) year 11's have been put under overwhelming pressure as we are unsure what out final exams will be, or we will have final exams. In that case, all the work we do now may go towards our final grade. Therefore, i will be putting this work on hiatus, hopefully only until July when school should be over. The governments decisions and school together have had a great influence on my mental health and have completely fucked my state of mind, meaning that online school is even more of a difficulty for me and many others. 

I hope that wherever you are reading this you are staying safe, wearing your masks in public and PLEASE talk to someone if you feel as though you are not doing as well as you would like, both mentally, emotionally and physically. It has been a stressful couple of months and will continue to be, so please take breaks whenever you feel it is necessary. That time for me is now✊🏽😩😩.

Thank you all for reading. I hope i will be able to come back to this work refreshed and able to write the best I can😌😌.

This was way to formal and i feel like a retiring teacher lmao. Naruto is the only thing keeping me sane🔪🙂. anyway. yeah. hiatus until july at the earliest. thank you for your understanding guys gals and nb pals.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated . But please be nice and not overly mean. 😊😔


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